Kiss Me Quick
by eracitor
Summary: This sophomore year, Quinn was set on perfection, and she was determined that she could reach it. But the first time anything in her life feels remotely real is when she lets her guard down in front of the imperfect Noah Puckerman. And while he had different plans for his sophomore year, something inside him tells him he needs her too.
1. Chapter 1

**Quinn sent a meaningful look at Finn Hudson, earning her a confused look as her boyfriend wondered what he was doing. As if he didn't know. His hand had been wandering, and although Quinn had let him done more than that on certain occasions, she was not eager to let it happen. Santana had been searching for solid evidence that Quinn was not as "holy" as she claimed to be for a month.**

 **"** **Not. Here," Quinn murmured through gritted teeth, her green eyes cutting into Finn's as she jerked his hand up so it rested on her waist. He grinned sheepishly, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.**

 **He was exactly what she'd wanted since freshman year. He was tall, and athletic, with popularity of his own. But he was nice enough that she could convince him that her reputation of virtue and holiness could also be upheld. She knew other popular boys with mohawks who could not accomplish this. Finn with his dark dull eyes, so easily-read and easily-manipulated. He was practically perfect for her. It was a mere coincidence that he was quarterback of the football team and the most popular boy in their grade.**

 **"** **When will the next party be?" one of the freshman cheerios asked Quinn with ostensibly innocent eyes. Quinn knew those eyes. Quinn had** ** _lived_** **those eyes. They were not innocent, and it was obvious that if Quinn did not keep up her social requirements (socializing with as many as she could, keeping Finn her happy boyfriend, having parties twice a month, etc.) she would lose her title of reigning queen of the sophomore class, if not the entire school.**

 **"** **Next weekend my parents are out of town," Quinn smiled a bitter-sweet smile at the underclassman, taking a small bite of her salad as Finn shoveled food into his mouth, earning a distasteful look from Quinn. "No better time to have a party. Especially since we only have to cheer at the football game."**

 **"** **Homecoming is almost coming up," an upperclassman pointed out. The cafeteria was bustling with people who lined up to get the disgusting food from lunch line, today's fine meal being sloppy joe with sides of steamed carrots or bruised grapes. Quinn had opted, instead, for a salad which would not only look better but would ensure her body stay small and fit.**

 **"** **You and Finn would make an amazing King and Queen," one of the freshman sighed dreamily. She could see the honesty written on her face, and had to stop herself from snorting. This was the kind of honesty that would soon be killed by the dishonest, deceitful drama that often took place between cheerios. Jealousy was a bitch.**

 **"** **We would, wouldn't we?" Quinn laughed, her laugh to bell-like and musical to be real. But it sounded nice, coming out of her mouth. She knew it by the looks on her "friends" faces. She was her perfect self, as usual. She felt herself relax against Finn's arm, which had stayed around her waist. She rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek, as the other girls gushed about how jealous they were.**

 **She continued talking, although she felt distinctly as though everything they said was written on a script. It was better than what she imagined the rest of school was talking about. She glanced around the cafeteria, the group of students that were all so normal and unimportant. She could imagine them talking about her, talking about how perfect she was, how beautiful she was, how-**

 **"** **-fat she got over the summer!" she heard a girl from a table nearby guffaw. Quinn kept her smile frozen on her lips, her ears straining to hear who the girl was talking about, but she couldn't hear them anymore. They couldn't be talking about her, Quinn Fabray. Not after all the good she'd done to this school. Not with her constant dieting, 0% body fat, and perfection of every aspect of her body. Could they?**

 **Later on, as she tightened her perfect blond ponytail she let a grimace show, but only when she was away from Finn and the others, warming up for cheerio practice with Brittany and Santana.**

 **"** **You're having a party next weekend?" Santana inquired, her eyebrow quirking upward in defiance. "Didn't you have a party a couple weeks ago?"**

 **"** **I'm not allowed to have another?" Quinn smiled sarcastically, twisting from side to side, stretching out her core. "Is there some sort of rule that you're only allowed to have one party in your lifetime that I don't know about?"**

 **"** **I'm just saying your parties are a little too much like clockwork," Santana remarked with an edge in her voice. "Like, I bet I could guess the dates of your next three parties, at least, without failing."**

 **"** **Santana, it's just a party," Quinn bit out evenly, stretching her arm across her red cheerio top, her pretty lips pursed.**

 **"** **Okay, okay," Santana let it go, her hands in front of her, as if she hadn't started this disagreement.**

 **"** **You're not going to have those mini-corn dogs again, are you? 'Cause I think I'm allergic because I started puking after I ate them last time," Brittany commented, a blank expression on her face as she looked between Santana and Quinn.**

 **"** **Brit, that was because you were drunk," Santana reminded her with a grin, tossing her dark-haired ponytail as she reached for her toes, the two blonds following suit.**

 **"** **And that was** ** _freshman_** **year," Quinn grinned, a laugh falling out of her mouth. Although this laughter was closer to the real Quinn, it still had that bell-like sound, reminding her that even with her best friends, she could never be herself. It would never be right. It would never be perfect.**

 **"** **So?" Brittany asked.**

 **"** **No, Brit, no corndogs,"Quinn smiled, although feeling like it was plastered to her face.**

 **"** **Unless you count the one in Finn's pants," Santana added with a bemused look on her pretty face.**

 **A look passed between Santana and Quinn, immediately causing the cold blond to bristle and close up to her friends.**

 **"** **I wouldn't know what you're talking about," she replied tightly, clearing her voice. "If we keep talking, Sue is going to murder us."**

 **"** **Murder's illegal in at least thirty states," Brittany replied, and Santana sighed, grabbing the vacant blond by the arm towards the field, just as Sue spoke up on the megaphone, letting loose a stream of insults. Although, Quinn could feel Santana's searching eyes on her back as she walked toward the other cheerios.**

 **That was just it. Quinn was constantly looking for what was consistent in her life, and one of the biggest constants in her life was the feeling that she was being watched. By her coach, by the cheerios, by her peers, by her parents, by everyone. She was being watched because they all expected everything from her. They expected her to succeed because she was beautiful and popular. They expected her to be perfect, and she was in no position to disappoint. She knew what it was like to be otherwise. To be ugly and fat and worthless. She never wanted to feel that way again.**

 **She never wanted to be Lucy again.**


	2. Chapter 2

Puck was pumping iron with the guys on the football team, when Finn got that contemplative look that means that he'd been thinking long and hard about something.

"What's going on, Hudson?" Puck asked, mostly because he knew Finn would have that constipated look on his face for a while if he didn't just spit it out. Puck had known Finn since grade school and not much escaped him anymore. He wasn't even all that surprised when Finn started dating Quinn. Quinn was hot as hell and liked to be treated like a queen. Finn was the kind of guy who wanted to treat a girl like queen and always had been.

'Not that I don't,' Puck thought to himself furiously. 'I just don't like to do it for as long, is all. Namely, I like to do it for one night only.'

Like that time with Brittany Pierce.

He shook his head to keep it from wandering. Focus on the task in front of him. He took a deep breath, inhaling the solid smell of sweat and...more sweat. It smelled like a couple hundred guys had run the fastest marathon of their life, ran in here, and died.

"I don't know. Do you think that sometimes...I mean, sometimes it just seems that Quinn isn't completely there? I don't know," Finn said.

This was not a topic Puck had a whole lot of experience with. He was usually the aloof one, trying to put distance in between him and the needy types. It was curious that perfect Quinn Fabray was also the distant type.

"That's just kind of Quinn though, isn't it?" Puck shrugged, doing five more arm curls and eyeing his own muscles approvingly. Quinn was like this weird mix of icy cool but extremely fucking hot. It was more tantalizing than he would ever let on, mostly because she enjoyed teasing the hell out of him.

He shook his head again. Damn, he was easily-sidetracked today, especially if he was thinking about his best friend's girl. He needed to get a grip.

"I don't know. It's just kinda...I don't know," Finn said vaguely. "I'll probably just talk to her or something. I don't know."

Puck shrugged. He wasn't going to push it if Finn obviously didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Hey, by the way, Quinn's parents are out of town so she's having a party this weekend," Finn added as an afterthought, squatting as he lifted his weights.

"Are there going to be corndogs?" another guy asked, doing another bench press as he glanced up at Finn and Puck.

"What?" Finn said blankly.

Later on that night, before he went to bed, he was still thinking about it for some reason as he strummed random notes on his acoustic guitar. He remembered a time freshman year when he'd been at a party, originally set on banging Santana Lopez but had accidentally been sidetracked by Quinn.

"Hello, Fabray. You sure look...enticing," Puck had said, eyeing her up and down. Her body looked as though it had been molded by God himself into perfection. Her sweet delicious curves were undeniable under her light pink sundress. Her toes fitting into white sandals, and her hair fell down her back in perfect blond waves. Her eyes were wide and green, and her lips were full and pink. God help him.

"Hmm, Noah Puckerman," she'd quipped in response. "I see you've actually paid attention in English this week."

"Yeah, I did. You impressed?"

"Unfortunately, no," Quinn pretended to smile sadly. "If only I was affected by your self-proclaimed charm. Unluckily, I have standards."

"That hurt," Puck scoffed, acting like he was covering up a hole in his heart and watching her eyes dance with mirth. "You wound me, Quinn Fabray."

"You'll survive," she replied, biting her lip sexily.

"A kiss wouldn't hurt," he winked, and she rolled her eyes, ignoring his advance but not stepping away from him either. "Oh, c'mon, like you _don't_ want a taste of Noah Puckerman."

"Oh?" Quinn arched one perfect eyebrow. "And what makes you think I do?"

"You and me have a natural chemistry," Puck insisted, watching as a wry smile touched her sexy lips. He leaned in closer, as if he was telling a secret and was surprised to find her listening, her eyelashes batting slightly. "The short story is you can't resist me."

"And what's the long story?" she whispered back, her lips almost touching his ear.

God help him. Noah pressed a hand to her waist, leaning even closer. "I can show you better than I can tell you."

Quinn laughed, removing his hand from her waist. "In your dreams, Noah," Quinn gave him one last enigmatic look before walking away, leaving Noah to stare at her figure as she left. God, what a tease, he remembered thinking, although he also remembered still wanting to get in her pants before he fucked Santana Lopez in one of the back bedrooms.

Puck laid back onto his bed, thinking about this incident, and then the fact a couple weeks later that Quinn started dating his best friend. It was like she was playing another move on the chessboard, like it was like another smart remark from her, waiting for his smartass response back. Except he didn't know how to respond. And besides, if she didn't want to have sex (which she always said she didn't), he could find it elsewhere. Still, her body and lips and eyes. Her little nose and ears and the curve of her neck. The way she was an utter mystery, her sphinx-like pattern of speech and how no one knew anything about what she was like before she moved to McKinley. She never spoke of any of it, and his curiosity was spiked whenever she was around. If only-

How long had he been thinking about her? What the fuck was wrong with him? He needed to fuck one of the MILFs he cleaned the pool for because honestly, this was getting ridiculous.

He woke up to the sound of his alarm and promptly slammed it off. He looked at the time. 6:00 A.M. He dragged himself into the bathroom, removing all his clothes and looking in the mirror. His muscles looked great, but he was still tired. He vaguely remembered staying up late, thinking about something. He turned on the shower, jumping in before it even turned warm, quickly cleaning himself before drying off and tying the towel around his waist.

As he glanced in the mirror, pushing a hand through his mohawk, he remembered what he'd been thinking about. 'Not her again,' he thought to himself. He quickly dressed, grabbing his backpack and heading for the kitchen.

"Good morning, Noah," his mother said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Got anything exciting going on today?"

"Always," Puck smirked, before quietly adding. "Also a football game this Friday."

Before his mother could respond, however, his little sister, Sarah, walked in, still wrapped in her blanket. Despite being eight years old, she still took it with her everywhere. 90% of the time it was wrapped around her shoulders, on top of her dark brown bob of hair, tangled up in her legs, or worn like a superhero cape. Always there.

"What are you doing up already, baby?" his mom inquired, and he left her to it. If he stayed long enough, she'd probably start complaining about his dad and he didn't really want to talk about his dad, not today.

By the time, he got to school, he'd honestly meant to have a normal day. He'd meant to _avoid_ undesirable topics (Dad) but by the time he'd gotten to first period, his dad had texted him a simple "in town" text, which promptly pissed Puck off. He knew his dad was probably only there to borrow money, which was utter bullshit. That loser could suck his ass if he thought he was getting more money. He had given him three hundred dollars last time. How much money did he think Puck had? How far in debt was he?

Not wanting the dark thoughts to grow and replicate and consume him, Puck had shoved Kurt Hummel into a locker in attempt to get away from his anger. He'd sent insults to the lesser beings of McKinley high, tormenting anyone who was different, therefore below him. It was no use though, and he'd ended up skipping class to hang out on the roof of the school. Only he knew about the unlocked latter that led up to the roof from the auditorium, it seemed.

He took in a deep breath, looking out across the school grounds before digging into his bookbag, tearing out a few folders and launching them across the courtyard. He ripped out crumpled up balls of paper, throwing them as far as he possibly could in rage and anguish. He eventually emptied his bag of everything in it, throwing it out and below him and breathing deeply.

God, what the fuck was wrong with him. He didn't look any cooler than his dad right now. He still looked like an idiot. He didn't have any of his school supplies. He would still need to talk to his dad. Why did it always end up doing the stupid thing? He quickly fled the roof, returning down the ladder and heading back to class, not feeling much better.

He didn't think he ever would, not when it came to his dad.

When he returned to class, he came just in time to see Santana and a few other girls snickering at none other than the ice queen herself, Quinn Fabray.

"You're a liar, Santana," Quinn replied, a bitter smile gracing her lips, as though the smile in itself should be taken as an insult. Her eyes flashed with rage and something else. Was it-no it couldn't be… "But it's not my fault if you're jealous."

"Me? Jealous of _you_? Oh, you've got to be kidding me, _chica tonta_ ," Santana raised her voice, slamming her hands down on her desk and raising herself out of her seat. "Why would I be jealous of some obsessive cold-hearted bitch who's faker than my _abuela_ 's hair color?"

"Oh, _I'm_ fake?" Quinn laughed an empty laugh, so much that it tinkled. Puck could hear it every time she did. It was almost too beautiful, too cutting. Huh. "If I'm fake, then what are you? Didn't I find a breast implant brochure?"

"¿ _Perdóneme_?" Santana screeched, her dark eyes filling with rage. Then a long monologue of Spanish streamed out of her mouth as she lunged at the girl. Puck, a second before she reached Quinn, dove out, grabbing Santana by the waist and pulling her back. Quinn almost dared Santana to fight her with her eyes until Santana screeched, "I'M GONNA GO LIMA HEIGHTS ON YOUR FAT ASS!"

"Fat!" Quinn laughed incredulously. Puck didn't blame her. Quinn was anything but fat. As he looked closer, that mysterious emotion shined brighter in her green eyes.

"ONCE A FATTY, ALWAYS A FATTY!" Santana screamed as Puck pulled her out of the room.

Quinn maintained the same defiant look but in her eyes he saw that look again. Some kind of mix between fear and shame. What was this? He didn't have a chance to find out as Santana lunged again, still screaming insults as he fought to keep her from shredding her supposed best friend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Quinn Fabray was** _ **livid**_ **. How dare she! Not that Santana could know about Lucy. That would be impossible. Not even the cunning Santana Lopez could have figured that out. Figured her out. Please.**

 **Most likely, Santana was referring to last year when Quinn had toppled off the pyramid during cheerio rehearsal, and Coach Sylvester had called her fat about forty different ways, and assigned her to the weight room for two hours to burn off her "fat" before allowing her to try again. As it turned out, Brittany had started a "tickle fight" with one of the other cheerios, causing the collapse of the formation.**

 **Still, Santana loved to pull that one out when they were fighting. Quinn was sure one day she would cleverly find out about Lucy and store away that information until the right moment to bring Quinn's downfall. But it had yet to actually happen.**

 **Quinn was more than a little grateful for Puck dragging Santana away, although she would never admit that to him. She felt a little too naturally close to Puck for comfort. If she didn't desperately need to feel like she is doing everything perfectly, she probably would have been interested in Puck. But she didn't need interest or connection; Finn was her perfect high school boyfriend, just as she would have a perfect college boyfriend and eventually a perfect fiance.**

 **Still the fear and rage coursing through her veins was barely remaining within her; she could feel the anger seeping out as she forced a pretty smile, giving the other students a what-are-you-going-to-do eye roll. She was most thankful when that bell finally rang. She walked up to Finn's locker, only to find that Rachel Berry troll looking at Finn pointedly.**

" **What is Grandma Berry doing here?" Quinn quipped, giving Finn a look that made it clear she was not in the mood for his kindness that he gave out like candy. She knew he hated being mean to other students because they were lame, but Rachel Berry was more than that. She was annoying and obnoxious and she always looked like she raided her grandmother's closet.**

" **If you must know, there is a project in English. Finn and I are partners," Rachel said, jutting her chin up and daring to look Quinn in the eye.**

" **I'm sorry. I don't think I asked you, Ugly Betty," Quinn smiled with a patronizing look. "We'll see about that."**

" **Well, it was assigned by-"**

" **It wasn't a question," Quinn interrupted. "Now please leave before I vomit all over your already revolting, oh dear God, are those actually** _ **loafers**_ **?"**

 **With that, Rachel left, her brown hair trailing behind her as she left.**

" **Was that necessary, Quinn?" Finn asked, giving her a disapproving look.**

" **Are you kidding me?" Quinn scowled.**

 **He touched her arm, and she was immediately comforted, which made her feel conflicted. She didn't love him, not in the true way that he thought he loved her. But he'd figured her out enough to know how to make her feel better, and she didn't want that. She didn't want someone to know her well enough to be able to do that.**

" **You know she didn't deserve that," Finn said.**

" **She so obviously likes you, Finn," Quinn quickly made up, although she was sure it was true. Finn was tall and handsome, along with kind and athletic and caring. "I have to make sure everyone knows that you're mine." With that, she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips to his. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing back, before pulling out of the kiss and pressing his lips to her forehead. She could smell the cologne she'd bought him for his birthday, and something softened in side of her, making fear streak inside of her.**

" **Does that mean you were jealous?" he asked, grinning at her.**

" **Wouldn't you like to know," she smiled mysteriously back, strutting to her next class, knowing he would watch her as she left.**

 **The last period of the day was English, taught by Mrs. Hudson. Last year, Quinn had been in AP classes and had been stuck with a bunch of know-it-alls and losers, like Rachel Berry, and it had almost put a dent in her popularity, so she ended up going into regular English, bored out of her mind but easily acing the class.**

 **As she sat down, Puck nodded at her.**

" **You alright?"**

" **I'm fine," she pressed her lips together, folding her hands together on her desk and staring ahead at the front of the class where Mrs. Hudson was smiling too brightly.**

" **You shouldn't listen to what Santana says. She's just shooting fire," Puck said, leaning over to catch Quinn's attention.**

 **She cut her eyes over to his, letting her mouth form an incisive smirk. "I don't need to be comforted; I know I'm not** _ **fat**_ **. Thanks for your concern, Puckerman."**

" **Hey, I was just trying to help," Puck lifted his hands in defense, leaning back into his seat.**

" **Because you are known for being a helpful guy, aren't you, Puck," she rolled her eyes. "You stay in your area, and I'll stay in mine."**

 **Silence was welcomed by Quinn easily. She did not care to associate with someone like Puckerman. She didn't know what his issue was. She whipped her head back to the front of the classroom, her blond ponytail swinging against her neck. She thought he was done with the subject until he added, just as the bell rang, "You're welcome."**

" **I never asked for your help," she snapped at him.**

" **You still got it," he argued back, raising his eyebrows at her. "Otherwise Santana would have ripped your face off."**

" **Although her talons are longer than the average nail length, I would have been fine."**

 **She tried to listen to what Mrs. Hudson was saying, something about a project that all the sophomores were doing; however, Puck's silence was so stupidly loud this time that Quinn could barely ignore it.**

" **What?" she sighed, as if he was making her weary.**

" **Nothing," he shrugged, running one hand through his mohawk, his hazel eyes gleaming with amusement, which only infuriated her even more than before. Because she couldn't help but argue back, which only seemed to amuse him more.**

" **What do you want? Some huge show of gratitude that you didn't stop Santana Lopez from finally getting expelled from this school?' Quinn asked sarcastically. "Thank you** _ **so**_ **much, Puck."**

" **No, I was-"**

 **They were both interupted by a disapproving look from Mrs. Hudson. Quinn realized everyone was staring, listening to them bicker in heated whispers. "Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman."**

" **Yes?" Quinn said at the same moment that Puck said, "What?"**

" **Since you two obviously get along so well, you will be partners for the project," Mrs. Hudson pursed her lips at the two of them. "Because you were not listening this entire time, I will humor you with an explanation. You and your partner will be doing a creative project. You have as many freedoms as you want, but the topic is discovering yourself. You can look up book quotes or song titles or create an artistic piece, but you two will be helping each other find yourselves. You have until the end of this semester to create the final product, which will replace your Final Exam. You must be able to present this product to your class. Here is the rubric."**

 **Mrs. Hudson handed Quinn the rubric, moving on to announce more partners.**

" **See what you've done, Puckerman," Quinn hissed at him, fuming that now she would inevitably have to create a whole project for the both of them, knowing he would never do the work.**

" **I could easily help you find yourself," he winked at her. "Let's go to my place later."**

" **Let me remind you that my boyfriend is your best friend."**

" **I was just kidding," he rolled his eyes.**

" **Ugh, you aggravate me entirely," she said, a fierce look in her bright green eyes which only seemed to encourage Puck.**

" **I'll pick you up after cheerio practice," he smiled at her cheerily.**


	4. Chapter 4

Puck sighed a heaving sigh as he lay in his bed, only wearing boxers and trying to keep his thoughts away from the entrancing Quinn Fabray.

It wasn't easy. His phone buzzed, and he almost ignored it, still thinking about Quinn when she'd come over to his house, still looking sweaty from cheerio practice. God, he felt for Finn in the moment he saw her, thinking of how many times he'd rolled his eyes when Finn vented about how badly he wanted Quinn despite her insistence on abstinence. Just having her in the same room was like teasing him.

Puck shook his head, running one hand through his mohawk as he snatched up his phone. It was Angel Whittaker, and her text was anything but innocent. His eyes lit up as he thought about the girl. She was a senior, two grades above him, with long curly blond hair and ample breasts and little hands that felt damn good when she touched him. And those green eyes-wait green eyes? She had blue eyes.

Dammit. He'd been thinking about Quinn again. What the fuck is wrong with him? She came over to his house to work on the English project, and he couldn't think about anything else since.

It started when he picked her up. She was still sweaty but she didn't smell bad. She smelled sweet and feminine. Her blond hair was coiled in the usual ponytail but it was a little loose, and when she sat down her cheerio skirt drifted lazily up her long, soft-looking legs.

"Alright, look, Puckerman," Quinn said immediately, getting right down to business. "I don't have unlimited amount of time, so don't even thinking about wasting it. If we're going to do this project, we are going to finish it. I would rather do the whole project on my own if I feel that you are just trying to mess around or screwing up your life. You will not bring mine down with yours. I have places to be, and people to talk to. Understand?"

"I'm not just some deadbeat," he pressed his lips together, irritated at the assumption that he's not worth anything. Yeah, he did some stupid shit, and he was born from one the lowest pieces of shit on Earth, but he was going to be better. He wasn't going to be like his dad.

Quinn laughed. "Alright, Puckerman."

"You trying to say something?" he scowled at her, before looking back at the road.

"I don't know. I don't see you in half my classes, and when I do, you're usually not paying attention," Quinn rolled her eyes. "It's not my business what you do or don't do. But I'm meant for something bigger."

"Like what?" Puck asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I...don't know," Quinn admitted somewhat reluctantly. "But if I can become...this-" She gestured to herself. "-then I can do anything."

"Please," Puck scoffed as he rolled into his driveway. His house wasn't huge; his mom did her best, which he knew was hard since divorce wasn't cheap, especially when her dad was broke. She did her best, but raising two kids single-handedly wasn't easy, he knew. It was a three bedroom house with one bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen. Not everything worked perfectly, but it was better than most. His mom worked a lot at the hospital, which although cliche, made for a good income so she could feed and clothe her children. Puck helped out with lawn money when needed. Anyway, he turned to Quinn. "I bet you were always like this."

"Think what you want, Puckerman," Quinn pursed her lips, shoving the car door open and jumping out. Puck followed after her, locking his car and heading after her.

He unlocked the door, letting her in and trying not to look at her behind as she walked in before him. He shook his head, trying to keep the thoughts away, as she plopped down onto the couch, dropping her bag next to her. "Hold on, I need to make a call," he said, watching as she pulled out a notebook and a mechanical pencil. He quickly dialed Ms. Ford, the widow across the street who watched Sarah while his mom was at work. "Hey, Ms. Ford. Did Sarah make it there alright?"

"Noah, is that you, sweety?" Ms. Ford answered breathily. For some reason, the woman always sounded out of breath. Maybe because she always had candles lit, making the air so clogged with different scent that you could barely breath, or perhaps it was the fact she was pretty badass when she was young and told stories of her stealing cigarettes and driving around on a motorcycle, wandering from state to state until the only states she had yet to see were Hawaii and Alaska.

"Yeah, it's me, did Sarah make it there alright?" he repeated his question. She wasn't crazy, but she liked to only answer things when she felt it was pertinent to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I couldn't tell it was you because I told you so many times to call me Lucy, not Ms. Ford."

Puck tried to smother his smile. "Of course. So did Sarah make it there alright or not?"

"Why, of course. She's right here. Did you want to speak to her?" Ms. Ford responded finally.

"No, it's al-"

"Noah?" Sarah's voice rang into the phone.

Noah tried to breath evenly. Ms. Ford never seemed to hear anything he was saying. "You make it alright?"

"Yeah."

"How was school?"

"Fine. I made necklaces out of daisies with Caroline but Abby tore them up."

He glanced at Quinn who was looking at her notebook. He realized he'd been on the phone way too long. "Well, don't worry too much about her. She's probably jealous. Listen, Sarah, I'll talk to you more later. Right now I need to work on a project."

"Okie dokie," she replied easily. "I'll tell Ms. Ford you said goodbye."

"Thank you!" he said, relief filling him. "See ya."

"Bye-bye."

"Your sister?" Quinn asked without looking up.

"Yeah. Had to make sure she got there okay," he shrugged, before sitting down next to her and changing the subject. "So, I was thinking for the project we could make playlists because who doesn't like music? So it should be easy enough."

"I thought so, too," Quinn agreed for once, looking up at him. She didn't seem annoyed but he couldn't quite place the look on her face. "Looking at the rubric, it looks like you get extra credit the more creative you are with this. So, I was thinking that we could make playlist out of your names."

"What?" Puck asked.

"Like, we could find a song that starts with the same letter as every letter of our names," Quinn said impatiently.

"So, like 'No Surrender' by Bruce Springsteen could be the N in Noah?" he asked, for clarification sake. Quinn nodded, handing him the rubric so they both could look at it. He skimmed it. "It also says it shouldn't be a separate project. What does that mean?"

"Oh!" Quinn said, her eyes lighting up. "For that, I had an idea. So, I think we can both assume we have different tastes in music. So half of the songs in your playlist should be songs you find on my phone, and half of mine will be yours."

"Oh, so the projects intermingle," Puck understood now. "That's actually a great idea. I had no idea what we were going to do, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah?" Quinn's eyes lit up, and Puck got the feeling that Quinn enjoyed the praise. He quickly figured out the reason she was so popular; it was like trying to stare straight at a torch. She glowed with the positive encouragement. He wondered why she even cared. She had to know she was brilliant; wasn't she in advanced classes last year? What was she doing in his English class?

"Definitely," Puck confirmed.

"So, what is 'No Surrender'?" Quinn inquired, crossing her legs. He tore his eyes away from her.

"Only one of my favorite songs," he scoffed at her. "It's from the 80's, granted, but it's still good."

"I like older songs," Quinn arched one thin eyebrow. "Although I like 60's music more than I would like any of your stuff."

"You haven't even heard it yet," Puck argued, standing up and moving toward the old-school stereo hooked up to the speakers. He sifted through the stacks of CD's, before giving up and hooking up his phone to the system. "Bruce Springsteen is definitely a brother of mine."

"Why's that?" Quinn asked.

For not being interested in him, she had a lot of questions.

"Just listen," he commanded, finding the song and pressing it. The music filled up the room, and Puck closed his eyes, letting it fall over him. When he peeked, he saw Quinn bopping her head, her eyelids shut as she took it in.

" _No retreat, baby, no surrender_ ," Puck sang along with the track, moving closer to Quinn until he was standing in front of her. Her eyes fluttered open, a small smile touching her lips as she looked at him.

"This does sound like you, Puckerman," she said softly.

"It's kind of my anthem," he smiled, his voice also quiet, as if it would break the spell if they talked any louder. In a way, it would. Quinn had never seemed more real. Her smile was almost accidental, and it was like the music had forced an understanding, a connection of sorts, between them.

" _No retreat, baby, no surrender_ ," Quinn sang, just as the song ended. "I like that. I guess a deadbeat wouldn't agree with something like that."

"No," he agreed, finding it oddly peculiar that they had agreed so often and easily during this time. She stood suddenly.

"Um, I better go," she said. She was quickly too close for comfort, but Puck stood his ground, his lips mere inches from hers.

"Why's that?" he asked softly, about to kiss her when she sidestepped him with a forced smile.

"Home. Now. Puckerman. We can meet again another time, okay? I need to be home for dinner. My dad's back from his trip, if you must know, and we were going to have a family dinner," she bit out, grabbing her bag and stuffing her notebook and supplies back in. The moment was gone.

"Alright," he'd said. The drive to her house had been silent, and at the end, she'd given him her number. He arched one eyebrow at her.

"Don't get any ideas, Puck," she huffed, as if he was exasperating her. "Next time we schedule, I'd like to be prepared so we can just sit down and get it finished, okay? I am dating Finn, you know."

"Yeah," he said, barely even thinking about that at the moment. "Hey, Quinn?"

"Goodbye, Puck," she said without answering him, leaving the car and strutting into her house without a wave of her hand. Her house was huge in comparison to his. It looked like everything Quinn Fabray had; perfect. He shook his head as he drove home, his mind still boggled that he'd almost kissed Quinn. God, she was so hot, he really just needed to get it over with. Especially since he ran two stop signs on his way home, completely on accident.

Later, he'd been too distracted to really hear what Sarah had been saying, or to reply to any of his mom's teasing or to even think about Angel Whittaker's sexts. He had seen something real in Quinn Fabray. He realized that he was going to get a lot closer to knowing the real Quinn than he'd been prepared for. But maybe if they just duked it out and then fucked, he would finally get over the mess he was thinking about her. He'd never been so attracted to a girl. Yeah, he'd fucked many and messed with even more. But he couldn't get her out of his head.

Was it her smell that was sweet and feminine like a flower? Was it the way he imagined she'd feel, with her soft skin and pretty pink lips? Was it her voice, which she used to tease and argue with him, but had gone soft when she talked about the music and then sweet when she'd sung the words? She was making him insane.

Or maybe she always had. No, it was something lately. Maybe it was that she was opening up and talking to him, like at that party. Once she started dating Finn, she mostly ignored him except when she had to speak with Finn and he just happened to be with Puck.

What the fuck was he going to do about this?


End file.
